


Space Sniffles

by Marijke_Rose



Series: Whumptober 2020 [21]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Day 21, M/M, Whumptober 2020, no.21, ”i don’t feel so good”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:56:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27134893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marijke_Rose/pseuds/Marijke_Rose
Summary: The Tallest get the dreaded ‘space sniffles’!
Relationships: Almighty Tallest Purple/Almighty Tallest Red
Series: Whumptober 2020 [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948705
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Space Sniffles

Along with all their other dirty secrets and bad habits, there was yet another thing Bob could add to the list: the Tallest were _terrible_ at being sick.

Now, that didn’t mean they never got sick, though they did have impressively strong immune systems just as all Irkens did. It meant that they were even more lazy, and whiney, and demanding, and…

Well, they were total _smeets_ when they did get sick. Just a case of the space sniffles and they acted like they were _dying!_

It was a luxury Bob didn’t have. Being sick, that is. Who cared if a table got sick anyway? But it was a luxury the Tallest could afford and, afford it, they did. They really did.

He would almost have been impressed by their ability to turn something minor into a total catastrophe. He would have, that is, if he weren’t the one who had to serve them during the whole thing.

Now, to be fair, this time it was two very _big_ cases of space sniffles - brought back by a returning invader who thought themselves much too important to visit the medbay first - so he _almost_ pitied his rulers.

As he brought them steaming mugs of juice with Vortian honey, the two royal pains were on the couch; Purple was bundled up in all the blankets, shivering, and Red was slumped on the other end of the couch - with no shirt on - being fanned by a computer arm. Sweat had beaded on their foreheads.

Both looked so miserable that it was a truly pitiful sight indeed.

“My Tallest,” he announced as he hobbled up and waited for them to take the mugs.

The weight atop the table eased as they took them, then came the sounds of annoyingly loud slurping.

Two hoarse groans later and the next thing he knew, he was doused in the hot beverage.

“YOU MORON!”

“HOW DARE YOU!”

“THAT WAS TOO HOT!”

“YEAH!”

“ARE YOU TRYING TO BOIL US?!”

“YEAH!”

“WE SHOULD HAVE YOU THROWN OUT THE AIRLOCK!”

“YEAH!”

“SO YOU’LL NEVER BOTHER US—“

“YEAH!”

“—WITH YOUR STUPID TOO HOT BURNY DRINKY STUFF AGAIN!”

“YEA—Huh? You mean ‘scalding beverages’?”

“Uh… duh! - NOW GO GET US NEW ONES!”

“YEAH!”

“AND TAKE THESE WITH YOU!”

The two mugs smacked him in the face.

“YEAH!”

“Yes, my Tallest,” Bob said in his most humble tone. “Right away!” He picked up the mugs and hastily hobbled from the room before they could make good on their threats.

Once outside, he sighed and put the mugs on top of the table he carried on his head.

He could _almost_ pity them… but not quite.


End file.
